


Paix Et Calme

by theianitor



Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: Comfort, M/M, Massage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-30
Updated: 2018-04-30
Packaged: 2019-04-30 07:00:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14491386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theianitor/pseuds/theianitor
Summary: (Set after Azerbaijan 2018.) First quali, then the race. Romain couldn’t wait to just get home and forget about this place for another year. A knock on the door this late could only mean it was someone from the team.Only it wasn't. It was Marcus.





	Paix Et Calme

**Author's Note:**

> A little something borne of "the race we shall not speak of". ;) I hope to finish something longer soon!  
> (This very very briefly mentions bdsm-related things, as is my wont when Romain is involved.)

\- Post-Azerbaijan, 2018 -

 

Romain turned the TV on as to not give his thoughts room to fester too much in the silence. He took one of the tiny bottles of whiskey out of the minibar and sank down on the bed with a sigh. First quali, then the race. He couldn’t wait to just get home and forget about this place for another year.

He was just starting to consider going to bed properly, thinking that with a bit of luck he could drift off to sleep and not have to think at all, when there was a knock on the door. It was pretty late, so he figured it must be someone from the team. Perhaps the stewards had taken this long to make a decision on Kevin? If so, it was bound to be bad news. Feeling like he didn’t need anything more to go wrong this evening, he still dutifully got off the bed and went to open the door.

There wasn’t anyone from the team outside. It was Marcus. The Swede looked a little awkward, shifting around and glancing up at Romain before looking away again.

“Hi,” he said, wiping his hands on his hips. He looked nervous. Romain didn’t know what to think. Marcus had no reason to come see him. He knew that they all had ways of making race mistakes up to one another; his preferred ‘payment’ was why a lot of them generally tried to stay out of his way.

“You know I didn’t hit you, right?” Marcus said, glancing up at him and away again once more. Romain shrugged. Of course he knew. His engineer had told him it might have been Marcus, and in the heat of the moment Romain hadn’t known what to think, but as soon as he got back to the pit it was perfectly clear that Marcus had had nothing to do with it. He wasn’t angry or upset with the Swede at all.

“I was just wondering... if you wanted to... kind of do it anyway?” Marcus smiled nervously and didn’t look up this time.

“What do you mean?”

“I was thinking maybe... to relax?”

Romain stared at him, not sure he had heard him right.

“You... don’t have to do anything at all, you did not hit me in the race.”

“I know that,” Marcus said, finally looking him in the eyes. “I was thinking maybe you wanted to because you had a bad race, or a bad end to the race, or... you know what I mean.”

He was obviously nervous, steeling himself to say what he was saying. They had had ‘encounters’ before, but Romain had never been under the impression that Marcus had particularly enjoyed them. He was pretty sure that if the Swede got to choose, he would not, for instance, be flogged. He also didn’t feel very much like any such activities. It didn’t take long to consider the possibilities, and he realized with a sigh that he didn’t feel like he needed to work anything out in such a way. He just felt tired. Still, Marcus looked expectantly into the room behind him. Maybe the company wouldn’t be so bad.

“Come in,” he said with a sigh. Marcus went inside and took his shoes off in the little hallway. Romain went over to the minibar again.

“Do you want a drink?”

Marcus was standing at the foot of the bed with his hands behind his back, like he wasn’t quite sure what to do with himself.

“No thanks,” he said.

“Sit, relax.” Romain sat down on the bed and picked up his small bottle of whiskey again, draining it in one go. Marcus sat down next to him. They sat in silence together for a few minutes, and Romain thought it was a good thing he knew in advance that the Nordic people were okay with long pauses in conversations – it didn’t mean they were angry or upset, it just meant they didn’t need to talk all the time.

“What are we watching?” Marcus finally asked. Romain focused on the TV and realized it looked like some kind of talk show in what he assumed was Azerbaijani. He had completely tuned it out.

“I just turned it on so it would not be so quiet,” he said. Silence fell again.

“Did you have to go to medical?” Marcus asked after a few more minutes had passed.

“Yes but only because I hit the wall at all, there was nothing wrong.” Marcus looked over at him for a few seconds and then looked resolute, like he was fighting his nerves but winning.

“Come here, lie down.” He pulled gently on Romain’s arm and made him lie down on his front while he moved to sit on the side of the bed.

“My shoulders always get very stiff,” Marcus said conversationally, pulling Romain’s shirt up. It felt a bit strange, but he still raised himself up a little, allowing Marcus to pull his shirt off completely. He heard the Swede rubbing his hands together. When he put them on Romain’s shoulder blades, they were very warm. It felt surprisingly pleasant, and he closed his eyes.

“Tell me if it hurts at all,” Marcus said, kneading carefully at the muscles. Romain didn’t know if he’d been stiff before, but he certainly felt more relaxed now. Marcus removed his hands from time to time, rubbing them together again to make them warm, and then kept kneading his way down Romain’s back.

It didn’t take long before Romain’s breathing was getting very slow and he felt like he was sinking into the mattress. He could definitely sleep now. Marcus’s hands were working just above his pants and he was going slower, like he wasn’t sure what to do.

“Thank you,” Romain said, stretching out a little and then sitting up. He felt a bit light-headed. “That was very nice.”

“It was nothing.” He looked like there was something he wanted to say, but he seemed to have lost his nerve again.

“Do you want to stay?” Romain asked.

“Only if you want,” Marcus said quickly. Romain nodded, and Marcus, without being asked, walked over and turned off the lights, so the whole room was lit only by the TV. He turned away to take his shirt off.

“Only to sleep,” Romain said, pulling off his own pants and getting under the covers. He felt tired and relaxed, and strangely comfortable with this near-silent company. Looking up at Marcus from the bed, he took in the muscled back, the slight tan, the short, very blonde hair. Marcus was rather broader than he was and he found himself wondering how much he actually weighed. He yawned. Marcus took off his jeans and hung them over the nearest armchair before joining him under the covers. He kept a civil distance and Romain had a second’s worth of doubt. Maybe this wasn’t a good idea. What was the younger driver expecting? He turned the TV off, and the room fell into darkness.

“Good night,” he said reflexively. He turned on his side and closed his eyes, sleep was near and he felt a lot better than he had an hour or so ago. The bed moved a little as Marcus shuffled around, and then an arm came around Romain’s waist.

“Good night,” Marcus said quietly, his warm breath tickling the back of Romain’s neck.

Romain exhaled, feeling relaxed, and drifted off to a peaceful night’s sleep.

 

\- The End -

**Author's Note:**

> All in good fun, as usual. :)  
> Thank you for the read. <3


End file.
